


Dissolve and Decay

by emotweek



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, M/M, Multi, emo kids with emo problems, this may or may not be based off my love life rn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 15:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17869991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotweek/pseuds/emotweek
Summary: fix in which tweak and craig date but break up, and tweek’s fucked up over itbased on my life rn so we’ll see where it goesi’ll update the tags as i write itTW now for underage drinking, self harm, and drugs but also just general teenage angst





	1. She’s the Prettiest Girl at the Party and She Can Prove it with a Solid Right Hook

It all started with a text. 

Tweek was on his way to work after school, the crisp autumn wind tousling his hair even further beyond it’s usual messiness. He’d taken his earbuds out to enjoy the quiet, listening to the crunch of leaves beneath him. Though he wasn’t necessarily happy about having to work, he was in a good mood about it. It’s a Wednesday night, after all, it certainly won’t be busy. If it was quiet enough he could invite some of his friends over to the shop to hang out, even. It’d be okay. 

Then, his phone buzzes against his leg. He pulls it out of his pocket, opening a new text from Craig. 

Tweek. We need to talk. 

God, that’s ominous. Especially to someone as anxiety-prone as Tweek. He could spend *hours* worrying about this. He looks up at the sidewalk ahead of him, taking a few breathes. It couldn’t be that bad. 

Sure, Craig, what’s up?

He shoves his phone back in his pocket, praying whatever Craig is about to say isn’t too devastating. They’d only been dating a few weeks, but Tweek had it bad already. He’d been crushing on Craig since they’d fake-dated in fourth grade, and finding out he felt the same was fucking awesome. 

His thoughts are interrupted by another buzz, and he pulls his phone back out to check it. 

I just don’t think this is working anymore. It’s nothing you did, I just don’t feel romantically towards you at all. I’m sorry. 

Tweek’s breath catches in his throat, and he stops walking. Not working? Craig is breaking up with him? 

He types out his next message frantically, tears blurring his vision. 

Can we talk about this at all, or is it final?

He watches the typing dots when they appear, beginning to walk again slowly. 

I’ve made up my mind. I’m sorry. 

So this is.. It? It’s over? The stupid nicknames, the cuddling, everything? Out of nowhere like this? 

God, he needs a smoke. 

Tweek cries quietly the rest of the way to the shop, wiping his face on his sleeve before entering. He merely nods to his dad, who leaves to go upstairs to the house as soon as Tweek’s back to take over. Glad to know one thing is normal today. 

Thankfully, he’s mostly able to keep his mind off Craig while working, turning his phone off and focusing on cleaning up around shop in between taking orders. It’s no fun, but it keeps his mind off how upset he is.. Mostly. He catches himself crying softly a few times during the night, just wiping his eyes with a napkin and keeping at it. That’s something he can deal with later. 

Eventually, though, close does come, and Tweek heads upstairs after cleaning up. 

What’s he supposed to do *now*?

His first impulse is to text Kenny about buying some booze, or weed, or *anything* to fight off his impending depressive episode, but it’s too late at night for that. Tweek knows Kenny well enough to know he wouldn’t leave Karen at home with their parents at night, no matter how good the profit. 

Well, that’s, okay. He can get fucked up tomorrow. 

But what about now? 

“Dinner’s on the stove if you want any, honey.”  
His mother’s voice from the other room pulls him from his thoughts. 

“Thanks, mom.”  
He’s not hungry- and doubts he ever will be again- but appreciates the offer. Usually, if he wants to eat after closing he has to cook, and usually, he’s too tired for that. 

Tweek heads up to his room, closing the door behind him and sighing softly. Everything hits him at once. He’s single now. Craig dumped him. His one shot at a happy relationship- is gone. He’s alone. Again. 

He feels hot tears well up in his eyes, and he crawls into his bed, not even bothering to kick off his sneakers first. 

As he sobs into his pillow, a whirlwind of thoughts spin around his mind- Mostly centering around the fact that he’s alone now, and will remain so forever. *Fuck*. 

His phone again buzzes in his pocket, and he fumbles under the covers to pull it out, hoping it’s not Craig again. Nope- Butters is calling him. 

“H-hello?”  
He asks, his voice thick with emotion. Great timing, Butters. 

“Tweeky! Are you alright? I’ve been calling all night and I got so worried- I heard about what happened from Craig and I wanted to make sure you’re okay!”  
Butters’ characteristically enthusiastic voice rings through the phone, making Tweek cringe. 

“I’m -nnn- fine, Butters.”  
He takes a deep breathe and sighs, closing his eyes.  
“Well, I-I guess I’m upset, but I’m not dead or anything. I just had to -nnn- watch the shop earlier.”

“Well gee, I’m glad you’re okay. Do you need anything?”

Sure, a pack of cigs and a bottle of whiskey to chase them down.  
“No, I’m just -nngh- just upset. I’ll live, I’m not a baby.”  
The tears still trailing down his chubby cheeks beg to differ, but he ignores them.  
“I’m gonna go to bed, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“As long as you’re sure, you had me worried.”  
Butters pauses, as if contemplating asking something else.  
“W-well goodnight, Tweeky.”

Tweek hangs up, scrolling through his notifications. A few missed calls from Butters, a few texts from Clyde and Kenny. Seems Craig has done a good job decimating the news he’d dumped his annoying ass boyfriend. 

“Ughhh.”  
He turns his phone back off, setting it on the nightstand and rolling over. This fucking *sucks*. 

So much for the good mood he’d been in earlier.


	2. The Pros and Cons of Breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> content warnings for this chapter specifically: underage drinking, self harm mentions/mild descriptions, drug mentions

The first few weeks after the breakup were.. rough. Tweek avoided Craig, both at school and outside of it, which hurt more than anything. He missed Craig’s companionship, more-so than he’d thought he would. Now, without his usual smart-ass boyfriend at his side, Tweek felt.. alone. And bored. He has too much goddamn time on his hands now. At first, he spends it in the shop, burying the painful memories under frivolous orders and mindless labor. Soon, though, he can’t keep it off his mind, even at work, and finds himself in a deep raincloud of depression that won’t let up. 

Then, come the drugs. 

Obviously, he’d experimented before, so it wasn’t too big of a deal when he texted Kenny one particularly bad night about procuring a little bit of everything. 

Hey, Kenny. How much would a pack of cigs, bottle of your cheapest whiskey, and a couple grams be? 

Tweek sits up, taking his wallet off the bedstand to check the contents. $40 should be enough, right? 

You planning a party or something? 

His phone buzzes with the alert, and Tweek rolls his eyes at the response. 

Why, you think I have any reason to throw party right now? 

He normally tries to keep his attitude in check, but he’s not in the mood to play around right now. His mind is itching like the fresh cuts on his arms, and more than anything he wants to drown it out. 

Course you do, babes. For one, you’re cute, and single. For another, you’ve got a great, sexy, charismatic friend who’d sell you all of teenage delinquency for about $40.

Damn. Leave it to Kenny to make him smile when he’s mad. 

Alright, alright. I have the money, whenever you want to trade. 

The thought of getting thoroughly faded excites Tweek, in a way he hasn’t felt in what seems like ages. 

We can do it tomorrow, if you hang out with me while you get fucked up. I don’t want you hurting yourself or anything stupid, getting drunk by yourself. 

Despite the casual way it’s phrased, Tweek can tell Kenny’s worried about him, or at least pities him. Though they’re pretty close friends, it still touches him that Kenny cares enough to volunteer to babysit future, drunk Tweek. 

Okay, I’ll be fine. You wanna invite Butters and make it a thing? He’s been on my case about hanging out anyways.

If he’s gotta endure “the breakup talk” from Kenny, he might as well kill two birds with one stone and have Butters’ version too. Plus, he feels kinda bad for blowing off the Stotch kid- he just hates feeling so pitied. He figures he’ll get over it soon enough. 

Fuck yeah, now you’re talking. And you said you weren’t planning a party. ;)  
Your place or mine?

“Goddamn it, Kenny.”  
Tweek rolls his eyes, unable to prevent a small grin from spreading across his face. 

Mine’sfine, my parents will be at the shop all day since it’s a Sunday. 

 

The next morning Tweek gets up to shower before Kenny and Butters come over. He undresses in the bathroom, pausing to look himself in the mirror. His hair is fucked up, as per usual, and his eye bags make him look like a raccoon, also normal. What’s new are the angry red lines criss-crossing arms at the shoulders and his hips. Though he’d promised himself he wouldn’t, he’d fallen back into his middle-school emo kid habits and wasn’t shaking them as easily this time. His mind wanders for a minute, looking at his reflection, before he remembers why he’s in the bathroom and gets in the shower. At least he seemed to look skinnier- never being hungry was paying off. 

After showering he cleans up his room, trying to hide his obvious signs of mental distress -several empty coffee mugs on his desk, an ashtray full of butts by the window, a few pages of edgy poetry- from his friends’ view. He knows they’re worried, but he doesn’t want to be pitied and babied anymore. He’s fucked up, and that’s his problem. No one else’s. 

By the afternoon, his room is spotless and he’s pretty beat, but content. He had to admit- it does feel better in his room now that it’s clean. That said, he’d die before admitting that to his mom, who’s been on him about it for weeks. 

“Hey, dude.”

Tweek jumps, turning to find a very coy looking Kenny leaning in the doorway, and Butters close behind. 

“God, don’t you -nnn- know how to knock? Wait, how’d you get in my house in the f-first place?”

“Relax, dude, I just know when you keep the spare key is all.”  
Kenny shrugs, shooting Tweek his signature lopsided smile.   
“Under the mat’s awfully cliche, you know.”

He moves into the room, Butters dodging around him to pull Tweek into a tight hug.   
“Tweeky, I’ve been so worried about you! The other fellers said nobody’d heard from you, and that you’re probably sad..”

“I- I mean I’m not exactly great right now but it’s not so bad.. I just -nnn- don’t wanna talk to Craig, and he’s always with those guys.”  
He lets go of Butters, shutting the door behind them. 

“Lemme get your money.”  
He nods to Kenny, who looks comfortable set up on the bed. He sits across from him, trading the money for his desired poisons. Thank god. 

“Don’t worry, I know you don’t get high smoking, so I brought your weed in edibles. Kick-ass brownies, to be specific.”  
Kenny grins, scooting aside so Butters can sit too.   
“Fuck yourself up, dude, we’re just here to watch.”

Two pairs of expectant eyes on him are weird, and new, but Tweek’s burning desire to be anything but sober overpowers his awkwardness and he pops the cap off the whiskey, drinking straight from the bottle. 

“Damn,”  
He earns an appreciative wolf-whistle from Kenny, and what he’s presuming is a look of concern/pity from Butters. 

 

Thankfully, they don’t just sit there looking at each other all night - At some point Tweek’s laptop is set up with some movie off Netflix, and all three boys end up squished together on one side of the bed to watch. Tweek’s feeling good, the occasional nips of whiskey he takes keeping him buzzed and eventually even getting him drunk. His mind, instead of buzzing with self-deprecating thoughts, is slowed down and somewhat content. It’s nice. 

“Hey, man, are you good?”  
Tweek looks up, finding that he’s now pretty much laying in Kenny’s lap. 

“Yeah.”  
He nods, and lays back down, his head spinning from the movement. 

“Now that you’re drunk- are you really doing okay with all this Craig business?”  
Butters pipes up from Kenny’s side. Damn, that must’ve been the plan all along- get him drunk and then get him to spill about how fucked up he’s been. They’re good. 

“I mean.. N-no.”  
Tweek forces himself to sit up, making blurry eye contact with Butters, then turning to make it with Kenny.   
“Are you sure you wanna.. wanna open this pandora’s box of feelings?”  
He’s not about to spill his guts without, at least, making sure they want to hear it. 

“Of course we do, that’s why we’re here.”  
Kenny pins him with those concerned, puppy dog eyes of his. Goddamn it. 

“Alright, alright.. No, I’m -nnn- not okay. I know Craig and I didn’t date for that long, and that it wasn’t serious, but I fucking love him. I miss him every day. He made me so fucking happy, just- just dealing with me, and I feel empty without him. I know its over, but, if he called right now, I’d take him back, no questions asked.”  
Tweek blinks away the few tears that well up in his eyes, realizing this is his first time talking about all of this out loud.   
“The fact that he just, just dumped me out of nowhere fucking kills me. I know it was my fault. I know I’m too annoying, too awkward, not hot enough, and all that. I punish myself every day for not being good enough for him.”

Figuring things can’t get any worse, and riding on drunken impulse, Tweek pulls up his sleeves, showing off his fresh, ugly scars.   
“And, and when I’m not doing that, I just get so high, or -nnn- drunk, that I pass out and can’t think about it anymore.”

He wipes his eyes with his hands, choking back a sob as he feels his friends hug him. 

“We care about you, dude. I know shit’s fucked now but you’ll be okay.”

“And if you ever wanna hurt yourself like that again just call me, I’ll be here fast as I can.”  
Butters sniffles, clearly pretty torn up over all this. 

“Thanks.. I’m sorry to just dump all this shit on you guys, but thanks for listening anyways..”  
Tweek pulls away, wiping his cheeks of tears again. Now that it’s all out there, he feels.. strangely empty. And tired. 

“It’s okay, we asked you after all.”  
Kenny ruffles the drunk boy’s hair, trying to act normal despite how worried he is for him.   
“Promise you’ll come to school tomorrow, even if you’re hungover?”

God, going to school hungover sounds like the last thing he wants to do right now.. But Kenny’s right, he should go. Mostly just so he’s not alone with his thoughts at home.   
“Yeah, I’ll go.”

“Good. I’m gonna walk Butters home, you get some rest, okay? Don’t make me go all mom on you.” 

“Okay, okay.”

Before he knows it, Tweek is alone in his room again, his thoughts swimming lazily in his head as he pulls a blanket up to his chin. This may be the alcohol talking, but maybe he would be okay after all.


End file.
